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Smok Taunter

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The door to the building opened filling it with more light. He turned stiffly to the light expecting to see the figure of Abu-Bakr, dressed in his tan and golden robes. But alas his suspicion was wrong. It was a different man, usually when someone entered it was Abu-Bakr, the Desert Ghost and a pair of loyal bodyguards.
This man was slim and well built. A heavy sheet of splint-mail clung to his chest and a steel skirt covered his upper legs. Underneath that was a pair of orange bagged pants.
On his head was a lightly built helmet. Like the guard a plume of horse hair struck up from this. Strips of gold ran about the helm, decorating and detailing this opulent piece of head gear. Underneath the fine helm was a narrow face with a short black beard. A crooked and broken nose sat viscously in the middle of his face, giving him the appearance of a starving crow.
Gesturing with his hand as he spoke he issued an order to Millard’s guard. The obedient lackey carried out the order and severed the ropes that bound his prisoner’s hands together and led him out the door with his hard, cold grip to the neck. Millard’s legs felt weak and stiff, making walking an awkward and painful experience. And as they exited the doors the desert sun momentarily blinded Millard. He groaned in protest and attempted to protect his eyes from the sun with his arm. The guard grabbed hold of his hand and roughly pulled it back behind him.
His eyes readjusted to the light and for the first time were able to see the outside world. It was a village of sorts, the buildings tucked closely together. Above the plaster coated, mud brick homes Millard could see the slope of the great tan mountain they were on. Opposite of that was the great empty expanse of blue sky.

17-Jan-2010 19:07:33

Smok Taunter

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insults and jeering violently? But they walked undisturbed through the streets, in and out of the shade of the buildings. They passed a few armed guards, there they made a turn and walked into a wide sunlit square.
In the middle of this stood many types of men, some were armor clad and carried the arms of war. Others in casual civilian dress that watched in half interest at the events unfolding. In the middle of the square stood a skinny, shirtless figure, it was easy to tell this figure was better fed, for this figure did not have the paranoia and fanatical devotion that Millard had. The guards led him to this man and set him alongside him. He turned to look at him and recognized the face of his comrade Louis DeLoren. He looked back and grinned, his gesture was returned. “What are we doing here?” Millard said curiously.
“I don’t know - they just brought me here a few moments before you.” DeLoren responded.
Millard turned away from his fellow crusader and looked around. At the head of the dusty plaza was a large house. The building was two stories high with several one story wings shooting out from the middle. The taller, middle piece of the house was capped with a brass dome. Long thin windows were cut into the side of the building. And in its front was a large ash door; an expensive piece in such a climate. The square was quiet, but it was soon ended.
The two guards had assimilated into the crowd and were not easily distinguished from the many that stood watching. The crow faced man was standing attentively along side the door to the house. He seemed to be waiting patiently for something. His arms crossed over his stomach as he the captive outsiders.

17-Jan-2010 19:08:13

Smok Taunter

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The other was a tall, skinny figure. A medium sized black beard hung off his face, complimented by a well groomed mustache, a stout nose above this. Two green eyes rested in their appointed location half way up his wide face. His hands hung by the thumbs in a purple, silken belt that tied his opulent soft-brown robes to his body.
Millard recognized this figure as Abu-Bakr. He came up to them and checked them both over. “You will now be broken to our service.” he said flatly, “You will not be slain unless you run. And if my men do not kill you on your flight the desert will. And if that doesn’t kill you physically it will kill you spiritually and mentally. It is advisable to both of you to do as you are ordered.”
“I can’t take orders from you!” Millard growled
“Oh, you will.” said Abu-Bakr as he threw his gaze to Millard. His eyes turned sharp and piercing, “Your life is in out hands and although I do not wish it I can kill you.”
The only response Johnson Millard could come up with was to keep eye contact with his enemy. From alongside him DeLoren spoke up, “What is it you want us to do? What is it you expect to come from this?*
*What I and my men tell you to do.” Abu said, looking to him as he spoke, “And perhaps we may re-teach you about us. Shed aside the cruel propaganda your loyalties created. This is what we expect to happen.”
“You want us to be loyal through slavery.”
“More-or-less, but we will break you back down to fit us. We want you to see the black stain your people are putting in the history of our world.”
“What stain?” Millard barked, but Abu was no longer interested and was beginning to walk away, “You are the one who puts the black stain on Saradomin’s world!”
Abu was still not interested. He gave off the impression that he had heard this all before. He stood with his two cohorts and chatted with them. A few seconds passed and Abu-Bakr and his armored friends parted, Abu for his home.

17-Jan-2010 19:08:31

Smok Taunter

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The crow man turned his scarred and battle experience face to them. His eyes twinkled with juvenile and cruel plans he had to them, “Come.” he said, “I have work for you two.”
He took the two and gathered up a hand full of guards. He led them through the streets, the painful warmth of chain mail gauntlets once again burrowed into their necks. They passed through the village’s streets until they came upon a large wooden structure. The crow man opened the door and let both of them in.
They stopped in the middle or a large, dark and filthy room. It was full of identical cots and like the rest of the buildings the windows were set high towards the ceiling, letting in little light, but a cool draft flowed in through these slits. From the corner one of the guards produced a pair of brooms. These were handed over to Millard and DeLoren.
“I want you to clean my men’s barracks. I want the sand out; I want the floor boards to show again. Once you are done with that I’ll set you on polishing my helmet, it has lost its gleam.”
He then left the room leaving the hand full of guards he brought to stand watch. Their eyes turned to them, a kind of sick pleasure in them. And having no choice the two reluctantly and awkwardly set to sweeping the dusty floor.
The floor was very much coated in sand, at spots there were drifts of the sand a half of an inch to an inch deep. And as their brooms accumulated more of it the work became more difficult. And just within a few exhausting minutes they had brushed up a substantial pile. “Do you have any shovels at least?” DeLoren said in gasps, despite the ventilation the windows provided they were not adjusted to such work in the desert.
The guards were silent for a few passing seconds; a few smiles creased their faces. “No shovels.” One said, breaking the silence.

17-Jan-2010 19:08:45

Smok Taunter

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Forced to work with the tools they had already the two resorted to sweeping it out the door. The majority of the day continued much like this. Sweeping the sand off the floor and out into the streets where the wind would play freely with it, blowing it back in through the windows or the door itself. And it was only by a kind of grim determination and a subconscious fear of the reaction of not working that the two knights had restored the floor to its bare wood.
The two leaned on their brooms, backs aching violently at the labor they had performed. Their spines screamed out as if they were shattered by a hammer, the pain was so heavy they could not stand upright. Their mouths were parched and their tongues turned to cotton in their mouth. As they were about to the crow man strolled in through the door.
He strolled about the room, eying the floor carefully, hand scratching his chin and the other behind his back. He scanned the room before turning to Millard and DeLoren. He made a sinister and from his back produced a bag. From this bag he poured out more sand and kicked it about the room. He finished and said to them in a voice that revealed a high amount of pleasure, “You missed a spot.”
The two groaned as they set back to sweeping the floor. They neared the pile that had been poured out on the ground. As their brooms touched the floor the Khardian shouted in anger, “The whole floor! This is no less clean than when I left it. Misthalinians and Asgarnians know not the meaning of clean. And there is sand still, even without the bad I poured out! Had Abu-Bakr not wanted both of you dead and would care less if you were alive or not I would have your guts as the belt my scabbard hangs on! Start from the back you pompous and lazy wretches and do like you’re supposed to.”

17-Jan-2010 19:09:10

Smok Taunter

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Millard opened his mouth to argue with the man but he was silenced with a bent and battle hardened finger. “If you speak,” he said calmly, “I will cut off your tongue. And if you do not sweep I will gather the refuse from the horses and camel and put it open this floor and take away your brooms. I can do worse things to men northerners. I am Imal as-Sadim and I am not afraid to back down from gutting a man who does not follow orders. Now sweep and do not speak. I shall be watching.”
Stiff and tired the two men set about working on the room from the very back as Imal told them to do. All the while he stood cross armed watching them work, his armor shinning a brilliant fiery orange in the dieing sun light.
The two worked to the peak of their perfection. Covering what they had already swept as to appease and avoid getting slain by Imal’s sword. If he was as dangerous as he said there was no personal drive to become another death on his sword. Only those who were felled in combat by it would know how many have fallen with them and its cold painful bite.
As the sun set and the lanterns were lit they had managed to push the last grains of sand out the door. Or at least they believed they had managed those last grains to the door; there was nothing more to see on the floor. They turned weakly to Imal as-Sadim, his dark silhouette was again scanning the room, “I can accept this.” he said flatly, a bit of disappointment hung on his flattened tone, “Now you have a date with my armor. Come with me wretches.”
Imal led the way out, the two knights walked close behind him and a pair of guards taking the rear. The night air was cool and crisp; a cool wind caressed their dry and parched skin. Although it did nothing more but temporarily sooth it as the air carried little moisture. The houses were alight with lanterns and the smell of spiced meat and desert foods wafted out of open kitchen windows.

17-Jan-2010 19:09:39

Smok Taunter

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Imal led them around a corner and down a small rocky path. At the end of the path stood a small a dark house. He approached this building and opened the front door with a key from his belt. The small group entered the house.
The darkness was stifling and all present, thus giving the room a cold and foreboding air. The only light shone in as a bar of blue moon light coming in through the door. A few moments passed before a small orange light sparked into existence. The darkness was rapidly banished from the room and retreated into the invisible cracks and crevices in which it spawned. But the room still clung to the uninviting and hostile air. The light furnishings did nothing but aid the introverted-ness of the room. Simple chairs sat at a small wooden table and a cabinet full of various small knives and daggers stood at the far side of the room. A patterned rug of red, black and blue lay across the wood floor.
“You will not leave this room,” said Imal sternly as he placed the glowing lantern down on his table, “all you need is in here. The polish for my armor is in the cabinet on the other side of the room. Remove two containers and a piece of linen in which to do your work.”

17-Jan-2010 19:09:49

Smok Taunter

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Obediently (Or perhaps it was out of fear of Imal) DeLoren went to the cabinet he mentioned. It was of a simple wood design with no decoration or ornamental pieces on its surface. Two soap worn soap stone handles jutted from the un-ornate doors. He opened them and took out two tins of polish and a few strips of cloth amongst the candles and bottles of lantern oil. Imal was disarming himself, his helmet and gauntlets rested on the table in the middle of the room. As he set up the process of removing the splint chest plate he again turned to talk with them. “You will not sit as you do this, you will kneel.” He said has he unfastened the plate and kicked aside the chairs. Underneath the armor plating was a simple white linen shirt, “my men will keep watch over you, when you are finished hang my suit on the rack by the knives. Do not touch anything. Doing so will treated as if it were theft, which will be paid for by your hands.”
The two kneeled down at the table. Imal as-Sadim’s instruments of war were laid out on the table before them. Behind them Imal’s guards watched them with attentive and watchful eyes. The slave master himself had left the room, likely to bed. The room was silent before the lids on the polish cracked and were removed.
They dipped the rags into the thick goop and ran it across the metal splints that made up the armor. The splints were well made and skillfully riveted together, shallow cuts ran across the plating. Each piece was polished until it took on the quality of a silvery mirror. DeLoren had finished the helmet and set it aside; he looked at outfitting before him and reached out to the sword.

17-Jan-2010 19:10:04 - Last edited on 17-Jan-2010 19:14:45 by Smok Taunter

Smok Taunter

Posts: 58,110 Emerald Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

The hilt of the blade was plated in brass, giving it shine similar to that of gold. The pummel was capped in a cobra’s head; two tiny rubies glinted in its shallow eyes, as if they possessed a haunting light of their own, separate from the light of the lantern. A thin and flowing guard arched over the handle, embedded into its metal hide was red ceramic. The brass skin had been cut or worn in several locations around the base of the sword’s blade to reveal the silver-grey steel underneath. Below that the handle was wrapped tightly in dark-brown leather which crossed-cross over itself as it made itself around the dark and powerful colored wood that was its handle. Holding it in his hand DeLoren marveled at how well it balanced and the very craftsmen ship of the handle. He cautiously grabbed the scabbard, expecting the deathly instrument to burst into flames or some un-hold magic to spring forth from it and strike him down. He pulled.

17-Jan-2010 19:10:24

Smok Taunter

Posts: 58,110 Emerald Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

The blade was long and held an eloquent and beautifully exotic curve. The sword sung as its blade rubbed against the brass at the end of the scabbard. As the blade revealed itself to the warm homely glow of the lantern it brought DeLoren to gasp in astonishment. The blade bore an intoxicating and fantastic watery pattern, born into the steel and not crafted by any form of human tool; it was a natural occurrence to the steel and felt of no flaw in the feel of it. The waves were a mix of lightly colored, almost silver steel mixing in a hypnotizing dance with steel-blue waves that crested, dipped and twirled along the sword’s length, engaging in themselves a drugged dance. The knight’s hand moved along its surface, admiring the smoothness of the blade and finding all the scratches that graced its experienced surface. But these minute injuries to the sword did not dampen the quality of its form or the danger of its edge, foolishly he slid the blade along his finger, painlessly cutting a small valley into his finger that quickly pooled over with blood.
The guards reacted quickly when they heard the drawing of the sword. With a lightening flash they drew out their swords and readied themselves to act defensively. They’re eyes ran about DeLoren’s face and the sword, calculating his actions. Millard, was up to this point was in his own world snapped his attention from his own business and let loose and silent gasp of astonishment (and fear, but that is unknown to anyone but himself) when he saw the sword. Shocked at their reaction, DeLoren began to polish the dazzling sword; but the guards did not lower their defense. Next to him Millard froze and watched with equally ready and sharp eyes. On his face was written the willingness to act hostilely if given the chance, despite being out manned and armed.

17-Jan-2010 19:10:45

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